


When You Press Me to Your Heart

by hopeless_eccentric



Series: (Free! That's right! Free!) Penumbra Commissions [17]
Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: And Gets One, Canon Non-Binary Character, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Identity Issues, Little Spoon Juno Steel, Nonbinary Juno Steel, Oh my gosh, Other, Peter Nureyev Needs a Hug, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Validation, loving and supporting your partner, nureyev studies a bit too hard for a heist and juno makes sure he gets a nap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:27:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27095035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopeless_eccentric/pseuds/hopeless_eccentric
Summary: “Don’t care,” Juno croaked out as his hug turned into a dragging vice grip. Nureyev didn’t protest, merely slumping along the floor until Juno had properly hauled him onto the mattress. “You need a nap.”“Mhm,” Nureyev considered. “You don’t think our mission will suffer? I’ve studied like this before, you know.”“You’ll suffer,” Juno shrugged, though the movement became choked when Nureyev wormed his way under the sheets at Juno’s side to wrap him in a warm embrace.Free commission for @amillionworlds on tumblr!!
Relationships: Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel
Series: (Free! That's right! Free!) Penumbra Commissions [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1921492
Comments: 39
Kudos: 171





	When You Press Me to Your Heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [amillionworlds](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amillionworlds/gifts).



> Hey all!! this one is 90% fluff, but ill preface now and say that there's a slight layer of nureyev's russian nesting doll of personal issues so anything mentioned/alluded to will be tagged in content warnings!
> 
> Content warnings for self-destructive behavior, implied ageism, implied body issues, implied identity issues, implied/reference sexual content
> 
> title from La Vie En Rose

Juno didn’t often get the privilege of watching Nureyev run himself ragged. 

However, when a study session crammed into Juno’s quarters for his cleaner desk space ran too long into the night, Nureyev had departed from Juno’s side to remain hunched over the desk to examine a set of blueprints. Juno hadn’t thought much of it at the time, merely expecting Nureyev to stay a few minutes longer before bidding him farewell and tarrying back to his own quarters. 

Juno hadn’t expected Nureyev to curl himself around the desk for what felt like hours. He kept a sim-paper notebook at his side the entire time, scribbling notes about locations and details over and over again like a student writing out their punishment for detention. His hand trembled desperately, and when his left hand seemed to have seized altogether, he shook it out and slammed the pen into his right. 

Nureyev bounced back and forth between the two hands until both seemed to have died on him, rendered limp and clearly aching against the desk. When he could no longer fill page after page with his speedy scrawl, he whispered his notes aloud, as if muttering an incantation. 

Juno tried to shut his eyes. He tried to let the sound of scribbling and mumbling lull him to sleep the way the oxygen machines and hum of the engine usually did. However, every time Nureyev clutched at one of his hands or slumped his usually straight posture just a little further forward, Juno felt something within him clench. 

Nureyev only ceased this strange ritual when Juno huffed. 

“Yes, dear?” He began hoarsely, voice raw from one too many cups of whatever caffeine he could get his hands on. 

“Nureyev,” Juno mumbled, reaching a hand up from the bed. 

He accomplished little more than a pathetic thump when his arm flopped back onto the mattress, for Nureyev hadn’t turned away from the blinding orange lamplight and his pyre of notes and resources. 

“I’m not—“ Peter brought a hand to his mouth to stifle a yawn. “I’m still here, my love.” 

“Honey,” Juno protested. 

“If there’s something I’m doing wrong, please inform me,” Nureyev slurred out. “For the time being, I’m unaware of there being any such thing, and I’d rather return to my studying, if you don’t mind.”

Peter then sighed out the sweetest yawn Juno had ever heard. It dragged at the end of his words the way sleep evidently dragged at his eyelids. Even if he tried to fight it off, his efforts were adorably futile, for a sleepy smile had taken the place of his usual winning grin. 

Juno felt himself smiling in response until Nureyev keeled forward, slamming his head into the desk. 

“Shit!” Juno yelped, all but tripping out of the bedsheets as he scrambled over. 

“What?” Nureyev murmured. “I was—“

He broke off, brow knit at his own words. Juno opened his mouth to supplement his train of thought, which seemed to be entirely derailed until his face broke into a lazy smile. 

“It worked,” he announced. 

“What worked?” Juno asked slowly. 

“I wagered that if I leaned forward, like so,” Nureyev began, repeating the lean, even while his back audibly moaned in protest. “I would fall forward and wake myself up if I fell asleep.”

Juno sighed, his expression putting a visible damper on the woozy delight settled on Nureyev’s face. 

“Have I done something wrong?” He tried to ask evenly, though his words blurred behind another stifled yawn.

“Nureyev, it’s gonna do you more good to sleep than it is to keep yourself up like this,” Juno sighed. 

Juno laid a hand upon Nureyev’s shoulder, which Peter leaned his head against like a flower turning to face the gentle light of the sun. Nureyev breathed a sleepy huff that might have been intended as exasperated, though the meaning shone faint through layers and layers of exhaustion. 

“I nearly missed the camera last time,” Nureyev mumbled, eyes having fallen shut. “I can’t endanger the mission like that again.” 

“You know the blueprints,” Juno protested. 

“I’ve yet to go through my memory exercises without a mistake.”

“Because you’re half asleep,” Juno pointed out. 

“I’m not half asleep,” Nureyev yawned. 

Juno found it criminally unfair that the only part of him touching Nureyev was his hand, so he wrapped his arms around Peter’s shoulders and pressed a kiss to his cheek, laid bare where Nureyev’s head had lolled to the side. 

“You think I could convince you to come to bed with me?” Juno said softly. 

“You never struck me as such a coquette, Juno Steel,” Peter mused. “I thought you were going to send me back to my own quarters. I doubt I’ll do you much good for entertainment in my state.”

“Don’t care,” Juno croaked out as his hug turned into a dragging vice grip. Nureyev didn’t protest, merely slumping along the floor until Juno had properly hauled him onto the mattress. “You need a nap.”

“Mhm,” Nureyev considered. “You don’t think our mission will suffer? I’ve studied like this before, you know.” 

“You’ll suffer,” Juno shrugged, though the movement became choked when Nureyev wormed his way under the sheets at Juno’s side to wrap him in a warm embrace. 

Nureyev had a nasty habit of putting Juno’s comfort first and pretending his own didn’t matter. He always claimed he could weather through a buzzing limb or two, even if Juno protested. However, when struck by a true, bone-deep exhaustion, he expressed his need for warmth and comfort by smothering Juno. 

It wasn’t unpleasant by any means. He merely tried to get the largest surface area of himself possible in contact with Juno. On early mornings, that meant draping his arms around Juno’s shoulders or waist while he cooked. On lazy evenings, he would pull Juno onto his chest or wrap around him while spooning. When he was too tired to do much more than raise his own head, he sprawled face-down across Juno’s chest and held on like his life depended on their entanglement. Every one of his sleepy little sighs landed right above Juno’s heart. 

“I have to do my part to my crew,” Nureyev mumbled into Juno’s chest, though he let out a pleasant hum when Juno reached to begin playing with his hair. “Getting worse at this, I’m afraid.”

“Why don’t you sleep now and I’ll massage your insecurities in the morning?” Juno offered, careful to draw his fingers in lines and circles upon Nureyev’s scalp. Peter always emulated those patterns with his fingers along Juno’s head, so Juno could only assume it was his own preference as well. 

Nureyev hummed again, though the sound blurred when he yawned, teeth sticking out like the fangs of a house cat during a particularly good stretch. 

“Please do so now,” he murmured, even with his voice barely audible. 

“Alright,” Juno began. “Gonna warn you, I’m a little too tired for poetry.”

“I don’t care, my love,” Peter yawned into Juno’s sleep shirt. 

“You might be human,” Juno prefaced with a warning tone about his words, for this road of affirmations was a well-worn one. He felt Nureyev smile against his chest. “But that doesn’t mean you’re still not the best damn thief I’ve ever met. Stole my goddamn heart.” 

Nureyev chuckled.

“And God, you’re gorgeous,” Juno breathed with a laugh. “Every time your eyes crinkle up when you smile it’s like you’re kissing me for the first time all over again. I know you don’t like those lines, but that doesn’t mean I have to.” 

“I love you,” Nureyev breathed.

Juno continued to play with his hair as he spoke, a lofty smile settling in across his face.

“Even if you’re the handsomest bastard I’ve ever met, that doesn’t mean a thing next to the rest of you,” Juno carried on. “When you fall in love with the man of a thousand faces, you can’t just fall in love with a face. It’s your tea snobbery and your dumb jokes and how damn good you are at just being there when I’m having a bad day and a million other things I can’t think of right now.” 

Nureyev hummed out something between a laugh and a sigh, though the noise had slurred and quieted as Juno’s words and the fingers in his hair continued to lull him towards sleep. 

“I don’t care what you think about yourself,” Juno leaned forward to press a kiss to the top of his head. 

Nureyev didn’t respond, breaths having become even as the exhaustion clinging to him like an anchor finally dragged him under. 

Juno felt himself smiling.

“Good night, honey,” he murmured.

He knew Nureyev couldn’t hear him. He didn’t care. They’d have a million nights like this one where they could share those words together.

**Author's Note:**

> Woohoo!! Now to make it angsty, reread that with the whole nureyev is dying of some secret disease hc in mind (personally i think it's consumption dont @ me im right) 
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading!! Make sure to SMASH that kudos button and leave a comment down below or else ill SNUGGLE you
> 
> Check me out on tumblr @hopeless-eccentric (where i'm still taking free penumbra commissions!) or on twitter @withane22 !!


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